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appointed by your husband through Lord Llewelyn's favor. My wrong was in misjudging Lord Ian, not in my intent." |
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"Did I not tell you Lord Ian would have no part in anything not to my benefit?" The question was sharp, but the reprimand might have been much harsher and the manner colder had not Alinor fallen prey to the same suspicion herself. "He loves his clan brother well," she added more gently, softened by the gray face, the bloodstained armor, the eyes dull with despair, "but he and I are one flesh, one blood, and one bone. You must never doubt him again. As for yourselfwe are all weary now. Tomorrow will be soon enough." She softened still further, remembering suddenly, as she looked into Sir Peter's hopeless face, that the pain was gone from Ian's eyes. Isobel had been right. ''Go to. Rest well. Since things have come out not at all ill, you need not fear me. We will come to terms easily enough." |
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Unfortunately, far from silencing Sir Peter, Alinor's obvious sympathy unlocked his tongue. She had the whole story from him, but it was midnight before she was able to return to the chamber in which Ian slept. She entered softly, signaling the man and maid who accompanied her to lay the pallet and blankets they carried on the floor near the bed. Then, without speaking, she waved them out. Since Ian was still asleep, she would not wake him. She set down the platter of cold meat and bread she had brought with her and covered it with a cloth. Probably he had missed a meal, but sleep, she judged, was more necessary now. In the dim light of the single night candle, she undid her belt and pulled off her cotte and tunic. At the moment she had no idea where the scanty baggage she had brought had been placed. She did not remove her shift. Normally, of course, Alinor slept naked, as did everyone who did not sleep in the clothing worn all day, but the floor would be colder than a bed, and her bedrobe was in her baggage. If she had to attend Ian in the night she |
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